


Mind Over Batter

by lethallen



Series: What Baking Can Do [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethallen/pseuds/lethallen
Summary: After getting continuously rejected for a first date by Evan over text, Connor decides to take matters into his own hands. This, like most of Connor’s decisions, turns out to be a bad one.





	Mind Over Batter

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all were so nice about the first part of this series that I wanted to give you more, so here you go!

Connor would have been sure that he was being catfished had he not actually _met_ Evan already. 

They’d spent the last two weeks texting pretty much non-stop, which was not something Connor, a notoriously bad texter, was accustomed to doing. And it was remarkable how much he’d learned about the other man just in their extensive texting conversations.

Like, for instance, Evan knew a lot of different species of trees and could identify them on sight. Sometimes Connor would send him pictures of trees he saw just to see if Evan could tell what kind it was. (He’d tripped him up only once, but, to be fair, Connor had staged the ficus to look a lot bigger than it was.)

He’d also learned that Evan had a lot of anxiety, especially social anxiety, so he was understanding when Evan said he wanted to wait a little while to go on a date. And again when Evan said he didn’t want to talk on the phone for the same reason. And _again_  when he said Snapchats of his face made him nervous. But as they neared three weeks of only text-based communication, it started to get... well, it made Connor kind of paranoid that Evan didn’t take this as seriously as he did. Sure, the guy seemed incredibly sweet, but it’s not like he knew him well enough to be sure he wasn’t being played. 

So, instead of waiting around and pouting about it, he decided to do something a little reckless. He decided to go see Evan. 

It was easy, considering he knew where the guy worked, and he’d mentioned before that he worked every weekday from 5AM (which Connor hadn’t even known was a time that existed) to 1PM. And, okay, maybe this was creepy, or a little too forceful, or just... not cool, but Connor’s history of general wrong decisions was only slightly longer and mildly less painful than his history of wrong guys, so he thought it was worth a shot.

Stepping into the little bakery, he was greeted, not by Evan Hansen, but by a woman he’d never seen before. She was a small, older Japanese-American woman with a warm expression and a tray full of cupcakes. When she looked up, she smiled brightly at him. 

“Hello! How can I help you?” she asked, setting the tray down on the counter beside her. Newly visible were the trans and classic rainbow pride pins she wore on her apron. Connor, to his own surprise, liked her already. 

“Hey. I’m looking for Evan Hansen?”

She looked mildly startled for a moment, but then it shifted into something both pleased and understanding. “Oh, you must be Connor! Just a minute.”

Just as she was about to go in the back (and Connor was busy preening over the implication that Evan had apparently been talking about him), Evan came out, looking panicked as hell. Connor felt the almost instantaneous need to apologize, because fuck, he overstepped. He’d just showed up at the poor guy’s work when he’d _told_ him that he wasn’t comfortable seeing him again yet. Goddamn, he fucked up, and he knew it.

“It’s okay, Marie. I heard. Uh, do you mind if I, uh...”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence, because Marie was quickly waving him off. “Go ahead, sweetie. Take your time.”

Connor was pretty sure he looked guilty as fuck as he and Evan made their way out of the bakery, stopping on the sidewalk. Evan didn’t say anything, which was kind of fucking terrifying, and it made Connor desperate to know what was in his head. Scared of what the silence meant, Connor began filling it. 

“This was a mistake,” he blurted, and Evan looked up at him, startled and hurt. Realizing how that sounded, Connor quickly backtracked. “I mean, coming here. To your work. I should have respected your space. Which I know doesn’t mean a lot considering I’m already here, but, shit, I...” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I just really wanted to see you. Which isn’t an excuse, but still. I was... fuck, I guess I was just nervous that you were using me as some way to pass the time, which is a horrible thing to think, I know, but I have this thing where I still have trouble believing that people actually like me and aren't just playing some sort of joke on me, and unfortunately, as much as I like you, you were not an exception to that. And, god, please feel free to save me from making a fool of myself any further. I know I’m rambling.”

Evan was staring at him, a little hesitant, and Connor bit his tongue to keep from saying any more. He didn’t normally ramble, but Evan kind of made him feel safe and in danger all at once, which caused emotional vulnerability mixed with skittering nervousness. That equation, apparently, resulted in word vomit. Evan, on the other hand, seemed tight-lipped, which, as far as Connor knew, was not in-character for him. 

It felt like eight-hundred-years before Evan finally spoke. “Y’know, usually I’m the one who gets all the monologues,” he said, with that cute little smile of his, and Connor was a fucking puddle on the sidewalk. He was a goddamn melted ice-cream cone, a pool of mushy sugar, and he didn't care. 

“You don’t need them. You still pull focus,” Connor replied, a little breathless, like he was a lovestruck teen on a goddamn soap opera. Evan did laugh at that, which made him feel significantly better, even if he’d meant what he said.“I really am sorry.”

Evan shook his head, looking down and fiddling with his t-shirt. “I would think the same thing in your position, if not worse. I can’t really judge you.”

“Still. I shouldn’t have shown up at your work. I should have respected your space.”

“Yeah, okay, you could have went about it a little better? Maybe?” Evan replied hesitantly, making Connor chuckle. 

“Why do I feel like I should be thanking you for agreeing that I did a shitty thing?”

Evan smiled shyly at him. “I dunno, because you like me a lot or something?” His face immediately turned bright red and he quickly looked down at his shoes. “Uh, no, I mean, that was a joke, not a good one, ha-ha, sorry, I just didn’t know what to say, I --”

“I do,” Connor said, stepping forward so he was a little closer to Evan. “Like you a lot, I mean. A hell of a lot.”

Evan spared a glance up at him before blushing some more and quickly looking down. “Oh,” he breathed out, fiddling a little more aggressively with his shirt. “I... um, really like you, too.”

“Yeah?” Connor took a step forward, getting a little too close to Evan, who made a small sound at the near-contact. It was hard to fathom wanting someone so much, especially someone he’d only had two real-life interactions with, but god, Evan was something special. Way too good for Connor, but he wasn’t going to advertise that, nor was he going to condescend to Evan by telling him he thought so. The guy could make his own choices and, judging by the way he was leaning in toward Connor, he already had. 

"Yeah," Evan muttered, apparently gaining some courage from somewhere and surging forward to kiss Connor. And fuck, Connor was far from complaining. He leaned into it, and they stood there, kissing, for what felt like decades and seconds. The feelings that it gave Connor made him contemplate how he'd become such a cliche, and when he decided to stop giving a fuck about it.

Then, suddenly, Evan pulled away with a gasp, eyes wide. "Croissants," he breathed, blinking rapidly.

"Uh," Connor replied eloquently, clearing his throat. "Uh. What?"

Evan shook his head, cheeks pink and unbearably cute. "I... croissants. I have croissants in the oven. I've got to get back to work." He quickly made his way toward the door again, but paused to shoot a smile at Connor. "I'll text you, okay? I promise."

Connor grinned stupidly at him and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. See you, Evan."

Evan's smile widened and he nodded, muttering a 'bye' before hurrying back into the shop. Turning around, Connor was just starting to make his way back toward his car when he heard a loud "Wooooooo!" from the shop. He looked back to see Marie giving Evan two thumbs up and a wide, toothy grin as Evan blushingly ducked his head down with a smile on his face.

* * *

 

Later that night, Connor's phone buzzed rapidly. He didn't have to look to know who it was. 

 **(7:34pm)**  
You, me, dinner at my apartment this Thursday night. I'll bake dessert!  
**(7:35pm)**  
Oh wow. Sorry. That sounded demanding.   
**(7:36pm)**  
Please? If that day doesn't work for you just let me know and we can schedule something else. 

Connor didn't hesitate to text back, not wanting to give Evan time to spiral. All it would take was one word.

 **(7:36pm)**  
_YES!_

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't obvious, Marie is a trans Japanese-American woman, and I love her.


End file.
